The Dark Knight: Mad Love
by FeiFeiKara
Summary: What would have happened if Harley Quinn were in "The Dark Knight"? This story deals about her evolution from Harleen Quinzel, into Harley Quinn, and how she fell in love with the Joker.
1. Chapter 1

Harley strolled down the faintly lit hallway, her blue eyes gazing at every room number she passed. She felt her heart beat in her throat and the sound of her heels vibrated off the walls, creating a spine-chilling echo. She squeezed the crumbled up note gently inside her hand, taking deep breaths, as she grew ever so closer to her destination.

_504…_

_505…_

_506…_

There it was, room 507. She stopped just inches in front of the door, eyeing it cautiously. She opened up the crumbled note once more and repeated the simple request to herself.

"_Why don't you come see me sometime?"_

_-507_

It was an odd request, and it wasn't really a big deal. What puzzled and frightened her the most was how the message found it's way into her office. It was crumbled and tied to the stem of a purple lily. She lifted her wrist and tapped her watch. 11:30 pm. It was way past work hours, and most of the patients were most likely asleep. Maybe she should come back at another time? No, she didn't need to let this little note scare her. It was most likely a prank from one of her co-workers. She was a new employee at Arkham after all.

She gathered up her strength and in one swift movement her pale hand knocked on the rusty door. The sound pulsated off the walls, and for a moment she was afraid her heart would burst. She paused, and when she heard no answer she knocked again, more quietly this time. She spun her head around when she heard a noise from one of the other cells, but she rapidly caught her breath when she realized it was just the sound of someone silently snoring. She placed her hand against her chest and gave a rough sigh while the other hand rose up to adjust her glasses. Perhaps she would come back in the morning. Harley was just about to walk back to her office when she heard a voice. She froze, mouth agape. It was a voice that sent chills down her spine, and she felt the need to be home, safe in her own bed. It was a metallic and eerily childish voice that spoke…

"_**Come in."**_

She gasped, and gradually turned her head towards the small opening at the top of the door. She didn't dare open it. Her breath quickened and with a gulp she answered.

"H-hi, I'm Harleen Quinzel. I'm sorry to bother you so late at night, but you don't by chance know about the lily in my office do you?" Her voice was faint; almost a whisper and she detected a hint of fear. She hoped he wouldn't notice. There was a long pause before he answered her. She felt like her veins would explode.

"_**Yes, I do."**_Was all that he replied, in the same chilling metallic voice. This time it seemed almost sarcastic and mocking. Harley was starting to get more curious.

"How did it get there?" She asked, her voice gaining more strength. She knew he couldn't see her, but for some reason she felt the need to cross her arms and give a firm gaze. This made her feel better; it made her feel in control.

"_**How it got there?**_**"** His voice gained an octave and a ghostly laugh escaped the cell, echoing throughout the hall. Harley couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine.

"_**Well…isn't it obvious? I put it there."**_

Harley felt uneasy at that remark, and she cringed when she heard him laugh again. It wasn't what she expected at all. She half expected someone delivering the lily for him, but _he_ put it there? It didn't make any sense. For a moment Harley got too comfortable with the silence of the asylum, and when he spoke again, it surprised her and she noticed her body jump.

"_**Beautiful aren't they? Lilies."**_ He gave a chilling cackle, _**"The very symbol of beauty and innocence in a hopeless wasteland like Arkham?"**_

Harley opened her mouth to say something but she was quickly interrupted.

"_**Like you my dear?"**_ He whispered, a chuckle at the end of his words. Her eyes widened, and she felt almost offended. She was wondering why he found this so amusing. She heard him chuckle again, a bit louder this time and a frown fell on her face. It was a laugh that reminded her of a small child, but she knew that was impossible. It was nothing but a madman's laugh. He was a twisted fiend who needed assistance. That's why he was enrolled in Arkham in the first place. She couldn't forget that. There was a lump in her throat that she was trying to get past. She adjusted her glasses again and stepped closer towards the opening on the door.

"I think the guards will be interested in how you managed to get out of your cell." She mocked, a smirk forming on her lips. That had him. She knew he couldn't repel that remark. There was an awkward pause, and then he spoke.

"_**If you were going to tell someone…you would have said something by now.**_" He cooed, his voice soft and sarcastic. She froze. She didn't expect that either. She found herself stepping back from the door now, the lump in her throat growing. She was nervous.

"_**You know, I like what I've heard about you. Especially your…name." **_Harley's brow furrowed, and she leaned towards the door again, curious about what he was going to say. Suddenly she saw him through the small rectangle opening, his eyes gleaming. His face was completely white, and his eyes outlined in black. The paint was smudged, and it only made him look more terrifying. She faltered backwards a bit, shocked.

"_**Harleen Quin—zel…"**_ She could see a smirk form on his face and his eyes bore through her, as if with one look he knew everything about her. She stared at him, awaiting his reply.

"_**It's a name that puts a smile on my face!"**_ And with one shrieking laugh from him Harley could see him truly, him and his mangled face. She gasped, placing a hand to her mouth. She felt her body begin to shake, and for a moment she seemed almost captivated by his mouth. She had never seen anything like that before, the way the stitches were carelessly placed in a smile, revealing bruised flesh. Blood red paint was smeared over his lips and unevenly on each side of his cheeks. The image terrified her, and almost made her feel sorrowful. His voice was like a tremor in her mind.

"_**Are you scared?"**_ His eyes narrowed and he stopped to glare at her, as if he were aiming for a dramatic pause.

"_**Is it the…scars?"**_

Fin


	2. Chapter 2

"**Harley, Harley, Harley…"** He lifted himself off of his makeshift bed, his eyes never leaving hers, _**"You wouldn't happen to care for me would you?"**_

Her face twisted into an expression of utter disgust. How could this monster even think that she, a high trained professional, would ever love a man like him? The only thing she cared about was his well being, and obviously she wasn't helping it.

"You're being ridiculous." Harley said, shutting her brown notebook. She uncrossed her legs, and stood up. "This is hardly how I want to spend my time. If you aren't going to tell me anything useful, then I might as well leave." She adjusted her glasses and began to head for the door.

"_**You wouldn't leave little old me alone would you?"**_

"Watch me." Her voice was angry. It infuriated her that he could be so self-indulgent. An immature, selfish child was all that he was. She was reaching for the door handle when all of a sudden his cold, dirt-covered hand was on her shoulder. Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned her head. She thought her heart skipped a beat.

"_**Harley…"**_ His voice was cold, and every word pierced her like ice. In one swift movement, his hand was around her throat, holding her against the metal doorframe. Shocked, she frantically clawed at his hand, choking on her words.

"_**Harley…"**_ His face was inches from hers and she could barley see his yellow-stained teeth behind his full red lips. She noticed his voice soften as he lifted one hand toward her face. Her whole body was shaking. He ran the back of his free hand down her forehead and her cheek until he reached her cherry red lips.

"_**Harley…."**_ He cooed again, _**"I wish you would smile more."**_

Harley's brow furrowed as she anxiously tried to pry is hand from her neck. His mouth twisted into a Cheshire-cat grin, and he gave a bellowing laugh that seemed to fill the whole room. Harley felt her head begin to spin; she wasn't getting enough air. At that moment, she definitely feared for her life. She was going to die.

"_**You have such a pretty smile, it's a shame only I know it exists."**_ His fingers delicately traced her quivering lips. He smiled as he placed his index finger and his thumb against either side of her mouth, lifting the skin, creating a forced smile. Her breathing increased, and on instinct she quickly snapped her teeth at his hand, catching the tip of his thumb. He grunted and swiftly drew his hand away, shaking it a bit so that the sting would dull.

"_**Ah, tah, tah..."**_ He scolded, wagging his finger just inches in front of her blue eyes, _**"That's not very professional doctor."**_ He laughed again, releasing the pressure around her neck. She gasped and swallowed, flexing the muscles of her swollen throat. Her head fell back, dizzily as the blood rushed back to her head. She gazed up at him, fire burning in her eyes with anger.

"Let me go." She ordered, still struggling against his hand. He shook his head from side to side and gave a pout. His sad face was quickly replaced by a menacing smile. He flicked his tongue along the bottom of his red lip as he lifted his hand toward his pant pocket. Harley's eyes darted toward his hand, and then back at his face. His eyes never left hers. He pulled a small, slightly dented pocketknife from his pocket and drew it up toward her lips, placing it just along her mouth. Her eyes widened, and she tried to lean her head back, but the wall stopped her.

"_**You know, you are my kind of girl, Harlequinn."**_ He smiled again, placing more pressure on the blade. She tried to mumble something, but her words came out as inaudible sound. His eyes narrowed, and he released her mouth from his blade. She took in heavy breaths.

"My name is HARLEEN." She said, raising her voice.

"_**That's too bad, I think Harlequinn suits you well."**_ He brought the knife up to her temple, and she cringed as the cold blade touched her skin. He didn't cut her; he only let the knife linger there.

"W-what are you doing." She whined, nervously.

"_**Shhhhhhh…"**_ He cooed, running his knuckles through her hair. "I'm only taking a little piece of you so I can remember you." Her eyes widened, and she began to struggle harder. He roughly threw her down toward the ground and yanked a swell portion of her blonde curls up in the air, pulling at the roots. She yelped in pain, and he laughed. He placed the knife at the root of her hair and began to slowly cut it away until he only held loose hair in his hands. He chuckled to himself and stood, watching as Harley rapidly rose to her feet. Her hand automatically went to the portion of her hair that was tattered and cut. Her eyes were wide and emotionless and she yanked open the door.

"You're going to get punished for this! I'm going to tell the director!" She yelped, running out the door and down the hall. He stood there, pleased with himself, her hair firmly placed in his hand. He shoved the small knife back into his pocket and went to sit on the edge of his bed.

"_**You won't tell."**_ He laughed, running the blonde hair along the side of his face.

"_**You'll never tell."**_


	3. Chapter 3

Harley sat in her office, staring at the stack of papers in front of her. Her hand instinctively brushed at the ragged strands of hair that hung short on the side of her head. She cringed, and slowly drew her shaking hand away. The expression on her face was sullen as she glanced at her watch. It was 10:30 at night, way past her time to be out of Arkham. She sighed and picked up the yellow sheet of paper that was sitting on top of the stack. It was a bunch of notes the director had given her to study before she could try to assist the one they call "The Joker." As far as she knew, he had no name. It was unknown, and personally, she didn't want to know.

She groaned and crumbled up the paper, throwing it across the room. She reclined in her leather chair and placed her hands to cover her face. She had studied everything… His jokes, his tricks, his mannerisms, and she still couldn't get him to talk. And what was perhaps the worse thing of all was that she didn't have the guts to call the director and tell him what the joker had done to her that afternoon. She began to wonder why she was so interested in the joker anyway. She certainly didn't _have_ to be his psychiatrist. She didn't _have_ to study endless nights and days just to be able to work with him. Something in her mind kept repeating, like a broken record. That one little sentence he said to her.

"You wouldn't happen to care for me would you?"…

She held her hands to her face again, and let out a long groan. She couldn't care for him he was her patient. He was a sick man who needed help, much more help than she could possibly give him. She sat up in her chair and checked her watch again. It was 10:37. She contemplated leaving, but she knew for a fact she wouldn't be able to sleep. She needed to talk with him. She needed to find out more about him before she gave up on him completely. So what if she lost a bit of hair? No one ever said that helping troubled minds would be easy did they? She stood from her desk, and ran her fingers through her blonde hair, raking the strands in front back into a pony-tail, covering the ravaged part of her scalp. She snatched two or three bobby pins from her purse and shoved them on top awkwardly. She shook her head a bit to make sure they were sturdy, and then she headed for the door. Room 507 was her destination.

Harley walked down the barren hall, stopping as she reached room 507. She stared just like she did the first night she came. The hall seemed darker this time, and she felt her pulse quicken. For some reason she wasn't as frightened as she had been that night. But of course, then, she never planned on opening the door. She caught her breath, and reached her hand out to knock. Before she had a chance to, she heard his metallic voice.

"_**Come in Harleen."**_

A lump caught in her throat, and she stood with wide eyes. She sighed and continued to place her key in the door, twisting it until she heard a click. This was it, she thought. She slowly pulled the large white metal door open, revealing a dimly lit room. She closed the door behind her, making sure the latch clicked. Finally, she made her way across the room, standing in the center, arms crossed. A frown was firmly planted on her face.

"How did you know I was there?" She asked with a stiff voice. He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. She glared at him.

"_**With your heels, I'm surprised you didn't wake the whole asylum. Why don't you tie a bell around that beautiful neck and make it easier on yourself."**_ He gave a surprisingly loud laugh, which sent tremors down Harley's spine. He was lounging on his bed, ankles crossed with his arms placed behind him for his head to rest on. He smiled up at her, the reflection from the light dancing in his dark eyes.

"Funny, he laughs at his own jokes." Harley spat, pushing her glasses further up on the bridge of her nose.

"_**Ah, but my dear, isn't that the point of comedy?"**_ He smirked.

"I thought it was to make others laugh, not necessarily yourself." She mumbled, finding the wooden chair behind her and delicately sitting down, crossing her legs. Her arms were still crossed at her chest. He laughed, shaking his head. He sat up in his bed, stretching his long arms above his head. He yawned and clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn't say a word, nor did Harley. They both sat there staring at one another for the longest time, his smile never leaving his face, and her frown never fading. After about five minutes passed, he broke the silence.

"_**You do know that it takes twice as many muscles to frown as it does to smile, am I right?"**_

She smirked, "Of course I do."

His eyes widened, and a childish look formed on his face as he rested his head on his clasped hands. _**"Then why do you frown?"**_

Harley's face softened for a moment, a sullen look nearly forming on her face. "I don't know." She answered, her voice irritated. "Why do you smile all the time? Don't you ever get upset?"

"_**What's life but a giant party? If you don't have fun in this lifetime, you will never know the joys that make everything worth while."**_

"Like what?" She questioned, concern in her voice, "Murdering innocent people?"

"_**Not exactly."**_ He sneered, slowly standing from his sitting position. There was acid in his voice, and his shoulders were hunched. He began to walk toward her, and she felt anxious. She didn't want to admit she was frightened. He stopped when he was in front of her, and he knelt beside her, his gaze never leaving hers.

"_**Are you nervous?" **_He smirked, showing her his yellow teeth. He patted her knee with his hand and made a clicking noise with his tongue. _**"Don't you think I know what people like you think of me? You think I'm a freak right? Someone who needs to be in a straight jacket for the rest of his unnatural life? Believe me, I've heard it all before."**_

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't find words.

"_**And…these scars." **_He lifted his finger, and traced the jagged lines that ravaged his face. _**"You're frightened of them, am I right?" **_

She didn't answer. He chuckled, and he spoke, his voice nearly singing.

"_**You wanna know how I got'em?"**_ he asked, pointing to the scars with each of his hands. Harley's eyes were as wide as they could go. She couldn't have asked for a better turn out. Of course she didn't bring her notebook with her, but she didn't think she would forget what he was about to tell her. He stood up so that he was towering over her. Harley never moved an inch. He pulled out the same pocketknife that he had earlier. He twisted it in his fingers, examining it for a bit, and then, without warning, his hand snapped out and grabbed her by the chin. The force nearly sent her tumbling out of her chair. Her breath quickened, and she could feel her heart pulsating in her neck, but she didn't move, she didn't struggle. He brought the knife up to the side of her mouth, pressing the blade firmly against her skin. She cringed, but kept up her composure.

"_**You see…" **_His voice had a different edge to it. It was shaky, unorganized. _**"My mother never cared for me like normal mother's do."**_ His voice broke off, like he had to think about what he was going to say next.

"_**She HATED to see me happy, you see? She would go out of her WAY…to make my life hell. And it never helped that she was a druggie, oh no. It never helped." **_He licked his lips and took in deep breaths, his eyes dancing.

"_**One night when I came home, she was pretty messed up you see? She was going CRAZY!" **_He screamed the word "Crazy" so loud that Harley thought her ears were going to burst. He applied more pressure on the knife, and Harley tensed up her body, not willing to be cut.

"_**I was pretty happy that night, because I was just with my friends, right? She didn't like that, she didn't like that one bit." **_He licked at his lips again, gazing at the ceiling.

"_**So she walks over toward me, fire in her eyes, and she slaps me across the face! I wasn't happy anymore, not after that, no.**_ _**She grabs me by the chin, like this." **_He shook Harley's head, showing her how tight his mother had held him. "_**Her nails were digging into my skin, tearing the flesh. It hurt pretty bad."**_

Harley let out a whimper as she felt a stinging sensation on her cheek. Her eyes darted toward his hand and then back at his eyes. He wouldn't cut her would he? He couldn't do that, he wouldn't.

"_**You see my mother's nails were as sharp as this here knife."**_ He gave a crooked smile as he drew his face closer toward Harley's.

"_**She glares at me and asks me, "Why so serious?" **_He licked his lips again, gathering his thoughts.

"_**She takes her other hand and begins to drag all four of her fingers along the side of my cheeks. "Let's put a smile on that face!" She says. "Then you can't complain about being miserable anymore." **_He paused, breathing heavily. Harley was petrified. She felt her hands shaking, and she was trying her best not to struggle against him._** "So she rips open both sides of my mouth with only her nails. Can you believe it Harl?!" **_He let out a piercing laugh, and applied more pressure on the knife. Harley squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

"_**But her nails weren't sharp enough to cut my whole face up, not sharp enough at all, so she takes her hand, and swipes the letter opener off the table you see?" **_He licked his lips again, _**"She drags the blade along my mouth, cutting up towards my cheekbone, creating an uneven, permanent smile." **_He released the knife on Harley's mouth. And he stood straight up, his back facing her.

"_**Life isn't meant to be serious Harley. Remember that."**_ He walked back toward his bed, and sat confidently down on the beaten up mattress. He began to stare at Harley again, not saying a word. Harley took awhile to register what he had said. She lifted her hand to feel the side of her face; there was an indent where the metal was against her flesh. She gave a sigh of relief when she realized there was not blood. She put her hand down, and stared at him with sullen eyes. Had he really gone through that torture? There was no way. It all seemed so unreal. Harley gulped, breathing heavily. It was the most horrifying story she had ever heard in her life. No wonder he was the way he was. Harley gathered her composure and sat in the chair, straight as an arrow.

"Now we are getting somewhere." She said, a smile curling on her lips. "Anything else you'd like to share?"


End file.
